Doodle

  • Gingerbread and sudafed

    P woke me up yesterday morning with the news that my car had been broken into during the night. It seems some social deviants had smashed out my passenger side window so that they could steal…well, nothing.

    Fortunately, the only thing of any value I had in my car were my CD’s. And they remained sitting in their case on the front seat.

    Which proves what P has always said. No self-respecting thief would steal my CD collection.

    It seems there isn’t really a huge black market for The Carpenters Greatest Hits.

    But we still had to deal with the hassle of getting the window replaced, which required me to drive around in the cold drizzle without sufficient coverage from the elements. It was a joy.

    Merry Christmas, Social Deviants. Hope you enjoy the big pile of nothing you got out of my car.

    And thanks for the bonus of having to spend $250 to replace a window at Christmas time.

    Since it was a cold, rainy day, I knew I better have some sort of afterschool activity planned for Caroline, so I lifted my self-imposed Target ban and purchased a Gingerbread House Kit.

    Needless to say, Martha Stewart does not live here.

    However, the Gingerbread House Kit achieved its purpose and kept Caroline entertained for the better part of five minutes.

    Five minutes that didn’t cause me to twitch at all due to the misplacement of gumdrops and peppermint candies.

    And there was certainly no voice in my head was yelling, “THE GUMDROPS ARE CROOKED. THE GUMDROP PATH IS NOT STRAIGHT. FOR THE LOVE OF GINGERBREAD MEN EVERYWHERE, STRAIGHTEN THE CANDY CANE.”

    I rewarded our dogs for scaring off the burglars before they took off with my Carpenters CD the night before (why else would they not take it?), and let them in the house to join us while we made our Gingerbread house.

    Bruiser kept his eye on the Gingerbread snowman, possibly because he looks so creepy with his red candy eyes.

    Scout, however, is a dreamer.

    Clearly, I am all hyped up on the sugar and the cold medicine.

  • The steam has left me weak and nonsensical

    So, yes. The blog is undergoing some renovations. It’s still a work in progress, so what you’re seeing isn’t the finished product. Right now it’s the beauty equivalent of having on some foundation, but knowing you’re going to look better once you have on a little bit of lipstick and perhaps some mascara.

    And, no, the staff at Big Mama, Inc. is in no way involved in writing any html, or css, or what-have-you for the new look. Well, other than completely outsourcing the entire project to Jules at Everyday Design.

    We here at Big Mama are big fans of the outsourcing. Stay tuned for the finished product.

    In other news, thank you all for your well wishes for Caroline. The little midnight hacker is doing much better today and a trip to the pediatrician found her lungs clear and healthy.

    She is no worse for the wear.

    I, on the other hand, after three different steam baths in the wee, small hours, feel much like I have been run over by a very large truck. A truck that after running over me, backed up to do it again.

    On the bright side, my pores have never been clearer.

    And as I sat on the toilet (LID DOWN) last night and rocked my baby girl, the thing that worried me the most was that I couldn’t get the theme song from “Diff’rent Strokes” out of my head. It’s like I have opened some type of Pandora’s box that will ultimately cause my friends and family to abandon me one by one because they won’t be able to take the constant repeating of “it takes diff’rent strokes, it takes diff’rent strokes, it takes diff’rent strokes to move the world”.

    Or is it “rule the world”? I couldn’t really remember last night at 3:00 a.m. while I was sitting on the toilet (LID DOWN) with sweat running down my forehead, watching beads of condensation trickle down the tiles due to the high humidity.

    Anyway, last night before Cough Fest ’07 began, I planned to take Caroline with me to Bible Study over at Gulley’s house. P had to leave on an emergency hunting trip, the babysitter was sick, and so I told Caroline she could just go with me with the stipulation that she and Jackson had to QUIETLY and CALMLY watch movies in Gulley’s bedroom while we had our Bible Study.

    The fact that this announcement was met with yelling and jumping up and down should have been an indication of how well this plan was going to go.

    I got Caroline bathed and in her jammies. Then I noticed she was packing up her Hello Kitty! purse with a variety of things that didn’t seem to go hand in hand with QUIET and CALM. So I said, “Caroline, I don’t want you bringing a bunch of toys over there. The deal is that y’all will rest and watch T.V.”

    She replied, “Don’t worry, Mama. I’m just taking the things Jackson and I will need. Guns and jewelry.”

    Which is so weird because that’s exactly what J.Lo used to take on dates back when she was still with P.Diddy.

    It just proves that it does, indeed, take diff’rent strokes to move and/or rule the world.

    Last but not least, Happy Birthday, Mimi. We here at Big Mama hope you have a wonderful day complete with some good Italian food and a nice bottle of wine.

  • My child appears to have caught whatever was ailing the blog

    Hey. Look what’s back up and running.

    Boomama and I spent the better part of the day yesterday testing various html codes, css, and quadratic equations until we got it fixed.

    Or maybe we just sent about 100 emails out to Laura, who designed this template, saying “HELP! THE BLOG HAS FALLEN AND IT CAN’T GET UP!”

    I can’t really remember exactly how it happened. But, needless to say, the aqua has left the building.

    My blog template once was lost, but now is found.

    Hallelujah.

    And I’d like to give a huge shout out to my Bible study girls who offered to put my html issues on our list of prayer requests. We prayed for healing and restoration for Bigmama1. Not even two hours later, the blog has been completely healed.

    Such is the power of prayer by Godly women.

    But in other less fortunate news, I have spent the last thirty minutes in a hot, steamy bathroom in an attempt to get Caroline’s airways to relax so that she can quit coughing.

    It was unfortunate that I was wearing flannel pajama pants and a Christmas Formal ’92 sweatshirt at the time because now I will have to go stick my head in the freezer for the next eight hours if I have any hope of cooling down in the next five years.

    However, Caroline has finally, mercifully, gone to sleep. Bless her little croupy heart.

    And with that said, I’m out of here. It may be a long night filled with more steam and humidity.

    Which may cause me to have flashbacks to ‘Nam.

  • We have no lack of the social skills

    Yesterday I dropped Caroline off at school and had some really important plans for the day. Plans that involved stopping at Starbucks to get the Peppermint Mocha monkey off my back and then coming home to catch up on Project Runway. Since my self-imposed Target ban, my days are just not as full.

    As soon as I got home, the phone rang. It was my friend E. and, long story short, I ended up with a bundle of three month old baby girl in pink fleece at my house for the morning and early afternoon. It was grueling having to smell her baby smell and kiss her little baby fat cheeks while she looked at me like LADY, YOU NEED TO BACK OFF WITH YOUR CRAZY.

    I got to hold her in my arms while she slept, I got to give her a bottle, and I got to watch her kick her little baby legs while she cooed and grinned at me. And then my ovaries and my heart burst from too much baby joy and sweetness.

    Since I was watching the baby, I asked Gulley if she would go pick up Caroline from school. Then, after E. picked up her bundle of all that is good in the world, I called Gulley to tell her I was on the way to her house to get Caroline. She told me that when she picked Caroline up at school, the teacher informed her that Caroline had not had a good day. She talked constantly, talked back to the teacher and, eventually, got sent to the School Director’s office.

    Oh my.

    What happened to my own little bundle of pink fleece goodness and sweetness?

    Gulley asked Caroline what happened and she said, “Well Guwwey, here’s the story. I talked and talked and talked and talked and talked….” She said Caroline must have said “and talked” about 152 times.

    I know Caroline wasn’t exaggerating about all the talking with the talking and more talking because I live with her. I am well aware of all the talking. I stay up way too late at night to just get a break from ALL THE TALKING.

    We got in the car and headed home. I asked her what happened at school. She said, “Well, there was a little bit of trouble…” (yes, I think that “little bit” is named Caroline) and then proceeded to give me the rundown of her day of disobedience. I told her, “When your teacher tells you to be quiet you need to say ‘Yes Ma’am’ and then BE QUIET”.

    She said, “Well, I just get so bored. Being quiet is boring.”

    I feel you, sister. You come by it honestly.

    In fact, I think it’s safe to say she comes from a not-so-proud heritage of less than stellar conduct grades due to the dislike of the boring by both of her parents.

    And since today is my mama’s birthday, I think it’s only fair to apologize for the gray hair I must have given her over my own years of talking. And talking. And talking. And also chewing gum in class. And then talking some more.

    Happy Birthday, Mom. From your daughter who never wanted to be bored.

    I feel certain I have many years of payback ahead of me.

  • Tiny Fashionista

    A girl is never fully dressed without a smile.

    And a leopard print scarf.

    I have taught you well, grasshopper.

  • Call 911, I need to reapply my lipgloss

    Yesterday afternoon I decided to take Caroline to see The Bee Movie. I’d been talking about it for at least two weeks, but never had the right opportunity.

    However, there is never a better time to trade watching DVD’s at home for watching a movie on the big screen than when it’s 45 degrees outside and wet. So off we went.

    I was buckling her into her booster seat and she said, “Mama, let me show you what I got in case of an emergency”.

    She pulled a bejeweled Barbie compact mirror out of the pocket of her fleece jacket.

    I thought she was going to pull out some candy, so I was surprised by the mirror.

    “What did you bring that for? For what kind of emergency?”

    “In case somebody looks terrible.”

    Well done, my child. Well done.